Taking Flight
by MountainAir
Summary: Katniss and Gale weren't the only best friends torn apart by the Hunger Games. There was a boy back home with Rue, too. A quick one-shot highlighting their friendship in District 11, the one that never truly had the chance to blossom.


**All credits to Leam's character go to Bibliophile1318, ****because**** I got him from her story _Empty Promises._**

_**Rue's POV**_

_**...**_

I swing my body up and around a branch one last time, landing at the top of the tallest tree in District 11. This is my favorite part of the day: watching as the sun sets over the treetops. The beautiful colors swirl horizontally across the sky and I sigh, wondering how something as peaceful and delicate as this could be in a world such as this one.

As if seconding my thought, my stomach growls loudly. I lean against the tree trunk exasperatedly, knowing that its hunger will not be tamed. Tonight, at least. The small portion of food my family has for tonight will mostly go to my five younger siblings, Ever, Holly, Fern, Sage, and Catcher. I probably suffer starvation the most in my family, but I don't mind as long as the others get food. My siblings mean more to me than anything, and as the oldest child in the family, I feel like it's my responsibilty to keep them all as well fed as possible.

A rustle below makes my eyes dart away from the sky. I feel panic for only a moment before I realize that the only other person capable of climbing up this high is my best friend, Leam.

Sure enough, after a couple more seconds, his face pops into view. With a grunt, he swings himself up one more time and lands right next to me. The branch bounces from the impact.

"Hey," he says. "I knew I would find you here."

"We only meet here every single day at this time," I tell him, laughing lightly. "It shouldn't be too difficult to know where I am."

His eyes twinkle with amusement and he smiles at me, sending warmth into my cheeks. I doubt he realizes it, but Leam has a huge affect on me. It's not that he's overly handsome, but his features are so familiar to me that I take comfort in them. Like the majority of our district -and myself- his skin and eyes are dark, and his hands are calloused from farming.

Farming and agriculture is what we specialize in here in District 11. We work in the fields and orchards from sunrise until sunset everyday without any breaks in between. You'd think that since we grow all of the food and plants, we'd be the most well-fed district. Unfortunately, that is not at all the case. After District 12, we're the poorest District because all of our products are practically immediately sent out to the Capitol for _them _to eat. If we interfere with their cruel system, we'll be beaten -or even killed, depending on how much food we take- for 'stealing' when really, it's our own accomplishments.

"Rue, what are you frowning about?" Leam asks.

I look up at him in alarm. "Oh. I'm just..." My sentence trails off into silence.

Leam leans back against the trunk of the tree. "Thinking about them again?" he guesses.

By '_them' _he must mean the Capitol. The cruel, heartless people that are the cause for all of the suffering in our districts, for the meaningless deaths, harshness, and starvation. I sigh, defeated. "Yeah."

There isn't much more for us to say after that. We've both ranted about them countless times, and there really isn't much point to it anymore. We both understand eachother so perfectly that just a quick exchange of words or looks can be equivalent to an entire conversation with somebody else. Leam knows what I'm thinking - he knows that I'm worked up again.

We sit together quietly for a while, waiting for the sun to reach a certain point in the sky. We don't mind the silence, having grown so used to it by now that it's nothing awkward between us. I suddenly remember the first time I ever met Leam, only two years ago, when we were both scrawny little nine year olds. I'd been up here in my usual spot, looking out into the sky and waiting to send out the tune that signals the end of the day. He'd climbed up the same tree I had -the same tree we sit in now- and had alarmed me so much that I'd sent him flying back down a good twenty feet before his belt caught on a branch and stopped him from plumeting to his death. To this day I still feel guilty about it, but it's hard to when we've become so close. He doesn't let me feel bad about anything.

"It's time," I say. He turns his head back towards me and watches as I sing out the four notes in a clear, confident voice. Just as I'd expected, each and every mockingjay falls silent at the sound of my voice. It isn't anything spectaculor or jaw-dropping, but it never catches, and the mockingjays seem to like it a lot; they always pick up on my songs.

I close my eyes and listen intently as the four notes are repeated across the entire district. I can hear the sound echoing, reverberating off of the trees and bits of wind in the distance, as beautiful as ever.

"You know, I only see you smile out here," Leam says, grabbing my hand absentmindedly. He does this often, and it relaxes me immensely. Having Leam around is like having a constant protector of everything negative in my life. He shines brighter than all of my troubles.

"It's the only place I can pretend bad things aren't happening all around me," I tell him.

"Not everything is bad."

"I know." I look down at our intertwined fingers. "But we still starve, Leam. And we still watch our friends and neighbours go into the Games."

He flinches slightly at the last comment. "We should just try to be happy for now. This is our last real year of safety before our names go into the Reaping."

And it's true. Next year, we'll both be twelve years old and forced to put our names into the Reaping ball for the Hunger Games. I know that the odds aren't going to be much in my favor with the amount of tesserae I'll be taking, but I decide not to worry myself too much just yet; Leam's right, we need to try and be happy while we can.

After all, you never know when things will take a turn for the worst.

...

The subject of the Games is dropped for a while as we head back down from the tree. With our years of practice, our skills in tree climbing and decending have become so great that we're known throughout our entire district.

I want to stay up in the trees with Leam forever, but I have a family to get home to and so does he, so we don't waste any time before heading straight home.

We both live in the worst part of District 11: the Chain. Some say it was named because all of the houses are pressed tightly together like a chain, whereas some say it was named for it's way of holding the poorest of our families there without an easy way to escape it. I, personally, am betting on the latter.

I prepare to say goodbye to him for the night, but he grabs my hand and holds me in place.

"Rue, do you remember what we were talking about just before getting out of the trees?" he asks. His eyes have a wild, worried look to them that makes me lean in closer anxiously.

"Yes. The Hunger Games, how our names will be in the Reaping ball next year," I say cautiously.

"Exactly. I want you to promise me something."

"Anything. What is it?"

A blush creeps up into his cheeks. It's hard to see with his dark skin, but it's still noticeable if I look closely enough. "I want you to promise me that if anything happens, if one of us go in, that you won't forget me. You're the most amazing best friend I could have ever asked for, Rue, and I just..." His sentence trails off, then hangs in the silence that follows.

I don't know what to say. I always try to put off my fear for the Games into the back of my mind, telling myself that it's far away and that I don't need to worry about myself or Leam just yet. But as our first Reaping comes closer, my anxiety rises. Hearing Leam voice his worries -for once- just proves to me how close we're really coming to facing our worst fear.

_What if I get chosen to go into the Games? What if _Leam _gets chosen to go into the Games? What will we do?_

Questions cloud my head, and it's hard for me to think. The emotions -the pure fear- building inside of my chest seems to be growing wider and wider, spreading farther and farther until it reaches its destinations: the pit of my stomach and my shoulders. The weight bears down on both parts of me, and I want to curl up into a tiny ball right here infront of Leam and have all my my troubles be sent away. But this isn't some dream that I can just wake up from; this is reality.

"Leam, I'm... I'm scared, too. But we need to be strong. We can't let ourselves live in fear for six years," I finally am able to say.

He looks down at his feet -a nervous habit of his that I've picked up on- and says, "I know, Rue. You're right. I just can't bear the thought of losing you to the Games. And I'm just afraid that with how much tesserae you're going to take next year, that something will happen."

I want to tell him not to worry about me and promise him that I'll be completely fine, but I don't have any right to make promises I can't assure will come true. "I'll be okay, Leam. There are thousands of slips."

He nods his head. "I know, Rue. You'll be fine," he says, then looks away. "Just forget it."

I don't tell him, but he's just made it a thousand times harder not to.

**...**


End file.
